


Our Island (Is Dying)

by partofthedisease



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Character Study, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, In which Plastic Beach is used as One Big Metaphor, Murdoc is a sad man with many regrets, Phase Three (Gorillaz), plastic beach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partofthedisease/pseuds/partofthedisease
Summary: "If your waterlogged brain stopped making your head swim for evenjusta second, you'd see things for how they really are."Pause."And then you'd leave."Murdoc and 2D talk it out on the shores of Plastic Beach.





	Our Island (Is Dying)

**Author's Note:**

> I finally got to see Gorillaz live this past Monday!! Total dream come true. To celebrate, I finished this old "dust collector" that had been sitting in my documents for about a year now. Hope you enjoy!

"Why're all the jellyfish floatin' up to the surface like that?"

Murdoc craned his neck to stare out of the porthole of their submarine. True to 2D's word, dozens of multicolored jellyfish were floating limply in the water, drifting lifelessly upward amongst the waste and debris.

With a grimace he replied, "they're all dead."

2D's eyes flashed white. "What's happened to them?" he questioned, drumming his fingers with worry. 

"Island's dying," Murdoc replied curtly, "an' they're dyin' with it, I s'pose. Surprised they didn't all keel over sooner, what with all the chemicals pollutin' the water an' whatnot."

"Island's dying," 2D repeated absently. It was an odd thought, and it took some time for him to process it. Islands can't die. _Plants_ on islands can die, and animals, too, but not whole pieces of land. Then again, perhaps science didn't apply to this particular landform. Plastic Beach wasn't like most islands, after all. 

The thought of a dying island made 2D feel dreadfully sad. He gazed longingly out of the porthole window, watching the debris float past.

A cardboard box. A rusty aluminum can. More dead jellyfish. 

"What's it like out there?" he asked Murdoc. He shifted positions on his cot so he was staring up at the ceiling.

Murdoc eyed 2D and grinned. "Want me to throw you in the water so you can find out?" 

Fear filled 2D's eyes once more. "That's not what I meant, you sod!" he shouted over the Satanist's howling laughter. Once Murdoc's amusement fizzed away, 2D huffed, "You never take me out onto th' beach. I'm always cooped up in that sodding underwater room or stuck in this drippy submarine with you. What's it look like out there?"

"It's a beach," Murdoc deadpanned, folding his arms across his chest. "You do the math."

"It's different from other beaches though, yeah? It's a _plastic_ beach, after all."

The bassist rolled the thought around in his head, debating on whether he should tell the truth or not. Ignorance was bliss, and telling 2D what Plastic Beach was truly like would leave the singer stressed out and overwhelmingly depressed. At last he decided that 2D's emotions were no concern of his, although deep down he simply felt that the singer deserved to know the truth.

"Alright, then," Murdoc began. He switched the controls to auto-pilot, and swiveled his captain's chair to face 2D. "Close yer eyes, mate, and I'll paint you a picture." 

2D obediently screwed his eyes shut, and his vision swam in black. 

"Pepto Bismol, right? Sick stomach pink. Imagine trying to get vomit out of shag carpeting."

2D frowned.

"And- and those little paper umbrellas you get in yer margaritas," Murdoc continued. "And daytime television. And capitalism. Are you envisioning it, Dents?"

"Er- yes, I s'pose?" answered 2D uncertainly.

"Good," replied Murdoc, nodding to himself. "Good, good. Now, imagine the stench of a hundred rotting whale carcasses-"

2D's eyes shot open, pale as a ghost in winter. He expected to see Murdoc leering back at him, sniggering at how gullible he was, but, surprisingly, Murdoc's face held no emotion.

"I-is that _really_ what the beach is like, Murdoc?" 2D managed weakly.

Murdoc nodded solemnly. "Indeed, my friend," he answered, turning back to the dashboard. "That's the Plastic Beach experience. Everything is so extremely fake, so artificial it'll melt your eyeballs. The end." 

2D bit his lip and stared out of the porthole. "There's gotta be some good things 'bout it, though, yeah?" he questioned hopefully. "It looks so pretty from a bird's eye view. Maybe you haven't explored the whole island yet?"

There was a long, pregnant pause. The vehicle stopped moving. The space inside the submarine was so cramped 2D could hear Murdoc's raspy breathing, a sort of creature growling from the depths of his throat. Then, wordlessly, Murdoc flipped a switch on the control module, and the sub blipped to life once more. He gripped the steering wheel and they jerked upward. 2D was flung sideways and he cried out when his head thudded against the metal interior.

"Ain't a single good thing about this godforsaken floating trash heap," Murdoc snapped bitterly as the submarine surged upward, bubbles and debris and little dead sea-things floating past, "an' I'm gonna prove it to ya."

Panic bloomed like thistles in 2D's chest. "Murdoc, what the hell are ya doin'?" he questioned, gripping the sheets of the cot for dear life. 

"We're taking a little field trip, Dents. Strap on yer adventuring boots." 

It wasn't long before the vessel reached the shores of Plastic Beach. Murdoc turned the machine off and stretched, grunting as his bones creaked and popped. 2D squinted as sunlight filled the submarine, and, once his eyes adjusted, peered out of the porthole with curious eyes. The window was fogged. 

"Well?" Murdoc's voice jarred 2D from his daze. The singer swiveled his head. Murdoc had his hand on the submarine hatch, gazing down at 2D with an irritated glare. "Come on, then. Let's get a move on." 

2D's legs wobbled as he followed Murdoc up the ladder. This would be the first time he'd set foot in the outside world since he was captured and taken to the island, the first time he'd inhaled fresh air in months. Murdoc slandered Plastic Beach's name, but, in comparison to asbestos exposure in a dim-lit, poorly ventilated underwater room, how bad could the island be?

Murdoc opened the hatch and climbed out, standing atop the submarine as he glanced down at 2D. "Welp," he began, pulling a pack of Lucky Lungs from his pocket and fumbling for his lighter, "take a look around. Mi isla es su isla, and all that jazz."

2D hoisted himself up out of the submarine and was greeted by a misty grey fog that seemed to blanket the entire beach. His lips parted slightly as he took in the world around him. His eyes flit to the ground. What looked like colorful aquarium gravel from far away was actually a hodgepodge of neon litter, heaps upon heaps of trash that substituted for sand. 

"Can't walk around without shoes on- not unless ya want yer piggies nicked," Murdoc warned, following 2D's gaze, "land's made entirely out of sea glass and plastic among Satan knows what else, an' it'll cut ya up somethin' _fierce_..." 

2D's expression had gone from wonderstruck to crestfallen incredibly fast. Slowly, he bent down and began to climb the ladder attached to the outside of the sub. He landed on the shore, the debris below his sneakers making a sickening crunch akin to broken teeth. Squinting, he shielded his eyes and stared as far out into the ocean as the fog would let him. "'Ere's no boats out here!" he exclaimed.

"Are you dense?" Murdoc asked, lips curling into a scowl around his cigarette. "No one visits, 'cos there ain't no ports, an' nothin' to deliver. We're smack dab in the middle of nowhere, the threshold of hell."

2D inched toward the shoreline, where the waves lapped at the sand. Gazing into the water, he noticed a hazy, colorful blob floating underneath the surface. 2D reached down, dipped a hand into the murky brown, and pulled out the lifeless remains of a dead jellyfish.

Disgusted, 2D recoiled and dropped the thing with a shout, lips tugged downward into an upset frown. "Why'd ya bring us to this bloody island if it's so damn terrible?" he questioned sulkily, aggressively wiping his hands on his jeans. 

"'Cause as of late everything that's happened to us has been sodding terrible, too," muttered Murdoc, just loud enough so 2D could hear. There was a twinge of hurt in his voice.

2D inched tentatively toward the submarine and stared up at Murdoc from where he sat perched atop it. "Not everythin' though, yeah?" 2D asked softly.

Murdoc's cloudy gaze locked with his. "We're living with the mechanical corpse of our guitarist." He spoke with no inflection. "You've gotta be whacked out on sleep and pain meds just to make it through the day. An' I'm..."

He trailed off. 2D's brow furrowed. 

"...An' you're...?" 2D urged, attempting to coax a response from the bassist. 

Under 2D's gaze Murdoc grew increasingly uncomfortable. He took a long drag from his cigarette, shifting his eyes from the singer to a gull flying overhead. "I'm..." he tried again, but the words clotted in his throat. 

Angrily, he ripped the cigarette from his lips and threw it into the ocean. "I'm nothin', D, alright?" he snapped. "I'm just like this island. Nothin' but a useless heap of trash, an' one of these days I'll just fall apart and sink right below the surface."

The harsh tone of Murdoc's words left 2D feeling anxious. "Hey there, mate, you don't have to-"

"It must be nice being as ignorant as you are." Murdoc's words sliced through 2D like a paring knife. He hopped down from the roof and advanced toward the singer, each step a broken bone, broken bone, broken bone. "Can't quite tell if it's from the car accident or if it's those drugs we've got you on but that little dream world that you're living in must be _lovely._ Really, it must. But if your waterlogged brain stopped making your head swim for even _just_ a second you'd see things for how they really are."

Pause.

"And then you'd leave."

2D's gaze hardened. He stared at Murdoc not with anger, but with disappointment. "I _can_ think straight," he argued. "What's keeping me from leaving ain't my brain, or the pills, or anythin' else you just mentioned."

Murdoc glared at him from under his fringe. "Then, for the love of Satan," he growled out, "what. Is." 

"It's the fact that we're surrounded by water that stretches on forever in all directions, you tosser." 

Murdoc's glare faded. He slumped against the submarine and stared at the ground. "You could swim," he suggested half heartedly, voice cracking.

"I'd drown," countered 2D immediately.

"That you would," agreed Murdoc. He toed the sand with his boot. "You could always send out an SOS."

"Who'd see? You said it y'self, mate, ain't nobody around here for miles." 2D frowned. "Why're you trying to get rid of me?"

"Because I shouldn't have brought you here in the first place," Murdoc said. "Gorillaz ended. Everyone was gone, and I should have left it at that."

"But you didn't," said 2D, striding to where Murdoc stood against the submarine, "and you can't quite undo that, I'd say."

Murdoc didn't speak. 

"But that doesn't mean you can't fix yourself now, y'know? To pre- pre..." The word was lost on his tongue, and he shook it away, "To keep yourself from messing up like this again."

A bitter, forced laugh escaped Murdoc's chapped lips. "'Fraid there's no fixing to be done, D," he said ruefully. "I fuck up, then I fuck up some more. It's who I am, who I've always been, no matter who tries to fix me."

2D stared at him. "Has anyone really ever tried to fix you?" he asked earnestly. 

Murdoc blinked, gaze faltering. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and looked away. "You always think there's good in everything, don't ya, Dents," he muttered, shaking his head listlessly.

Frowning, 2D said, "well, not always, I don't fink. But sometimes the good is just 'round the corner, don't you agree? Y'just have to go looking for it."

The silence fought with the waves that crashed against the shore. Murdoc stared into the water, challenging the gaze of a dead jellyfish that lay beneath. 

"Y'know, Noods loved the beach, Mudz," 2D stated suddenly. The non-sequitur caused Murdoc's heart to bunch in his chest- a sort of painful, consuming feeling- and when his eyes met 2D's, he knew the singer felt it too.

"I know," Murdoc replied. "It's a good thing she's not here right now. She'd hate this one."


End file.
